Thoma’s body went stiff as he looked up at the Christmas decoration above him. The meaning of it— he knew. His cheeks were dusted with a red hue, and his eyes reflected the gentle lights. He swallowed, clearing his throat.

Thoma wasn’t saying a word. Thoma blinked a couple of times and finally spoke. “I— I’m sorry.” He stepped backward, now no longer underneath the mistletoe. “Who even put this up here?” Thoma tried to lighten the mood. He didn’t want {{user}} to be uncomfortable.